The Bro-sitters' Club (Ben Saves the Day… Sort Of)
by The-Turducken-Affairs
Summary: Dean has to take care of a baby, so he panics and turns to Ben for help. Turns out, the baby is the easiest one to deal with. (No spoilers besides Ben's existence) Warnings: not entirely realistic.


**Disclaimer: Supernatural ain't mine. "Grandma" belongs to me though.**

**A/N: I was inspired by the "Two and a Half Men" episode of Supernatural.**

**Do you remember the store scene where Sam and Dean were getting supplies for the shifter baby? **

**Dean was telling Sam what to get to take care of the baby and Sam was all like, "So how do you know about all this?" **

**For some reason, I really didn't believe Dean when he said he's just been on a few milk runs. So I wrote this.**

**Warnings: Spazzy and a little dumb. Also, not all that realistic.**

**Read, Enjoy, Review! :)**

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_This never happened._ Dean makes Ben swear it and he can tell that Dean means it- really means it- because there is a dangerous edge to his voice Ben's never heard before.

And for a while, that was it. Not a word- just life carrying on like life does. Except, the time comes around for a family get together and well. Ben's only human.

"Okay, so it goes like this," and Ben sits down with relatives, grandmothers and uncles and distant half cousins, and tells them all what happened.

**BSD**

It was two days ago. Actually, let me say something else first.

The thing you need to know about Dean is this- he's an intense guy. No, no, I'm serious! _Yes_, he was raving about Dr. Sexy with Aunt Linda this morning, but that doesn't mean- Fine, here's an example.

He's got this way of looking at you. And sure, most of the time he smiles and winks and makes references to TV shows I didn't even know existed, but if you don't get caught up in that, you'd notice. He'll stare right at you. There's no avoiding eye contact or Dean letting himself get distracted and turning away. He's always gotta be the person to hold your gaze the longest.

It's no big deal, just a weird habit of his, but doesn't that seem kind of intense? Yeah, _thank you_ Grandma, now that _you've_ agreed... No! I'm not being sassy! I was just- Okay, sorry. I'll get on with.

As I was saying. Two days ago, I got called to the front office. My teacher said I was going home early. I had no idea what was going on, but of all the things that could have happened, I didn't expect this.

Dean was in the office, pacing and looking freaked. Him freaking out got me freaked out too and I was all like, "What's wrong? Where's Mom?"

And it turns out, while I was at school, Dean somehow managed to land himself a babysitting gig.

But the thing is, he didn't explain any of this to me. When I asked, he just turned to me, real serious like, and said, "Come on." So he's walking towards his ride like he's on a mission and I'm running and trying to steel myself for the worst thing that I can imagine happening and as I get closer, everything is starting to look normal, except, I'm at just the right angle to see a pink bow peeking out of the window.

And then of course I'm all like, _why I say, is that a pink bow in your car, Dean?_ I get closer and then BAM! There's this baby, all chubby cheeks and fat little elephant arms and legs.

And it's almost a disappointment, because I was emotionally invested in this mystery. I turn to glare at Dean and he looks just as traumatized as he did in the office.

He's looking at me like he's desperately wishing something would grab his collar and carry him off to the moon. He opens his mouth and says, "It's a baby."

Duh.

I look at Dean and Dean looks at me and nothing happens. For like, a whole two minutes. And it becomes clear to me, at this point, that I'm going to have to do something about this.

So I roll up sleeves- okay, _fine_, I don't remember if I did. Can I just say that I did? It seems like something I would have done. _Thank you_, again Grandma. I will 'get on with it.'

I say, "How long have you been babysitting her?"

Dean says, "An hour."

"Is she hungry?"

Dean gets this constipated look on his face, so I can tell he has no idea. I give him an easier question to answer, "Has she been crying?"

"….Yes."

"Have you fed her? Does she need her diaper changed? Have you been making scary faces at her?"

"That's why I picked you up from school! I don't know." Dean is shrugging like an epileptic and his voice raises an octave. Y'know, he's usually all growly, but this was really kind of melodic. He could have been a singer.

And then things got boring for a little while because we were driving to the store and getting stuff for her and Dean managed to act entirely normal for the whole trip.

But boy did Dean make up for being competent at the store, because once we got outside…

My best guess is that he is, at this point, trying to earn back his manhood, because he looks like he's ready to go to war.

Dean had gone off ahead of me, while I was stuck changing the little stinker's diaper. Anyways, when I catch up to him, Dean is… well, he's armed… with bottles?

I will never know how he did this- the technique and time frame being the most confusing parts-, but he had a couple of bottles filled with what I hope was baby formula- I don't mean- God, I was thinking Kool-Aid or something. Not- come on Grandma, Dean's not gonna feed a baby alcohol. Yeesh.

Okay, so besides the bottle, he also had baby powder and diapers packed up and strapped along a sash, like a machine gun belt that one hangs across one's torso.

Anyways. I'm just staring at him, taking it all in and what have you, and Dean slaps his hands together and rubs them, adding on, "Okay. I'm ready." And then he reaches his hands out to me.

I say, "What?"

"The baby!" and he wiggles his arms a little.

"What about the baby?"

"Give her here," and now he's bouncing on the balls of his feet and he has this unsettling gleam in his eyes.

Cautiously, because he looks all kinds of crazy at this point, I say, "Nooo."

Dean is really invested, I mean hell- OW! _Sorry_, Grandma, I meant… heck? NO, NO! I didn't mean that either. I meant… _After all_.

After all, he's just wrapped himself up in baby supplies. So I'm guessing at this point he might be thinking that he's going to hold that baby if it's the last thing he does.

Okay, I don't really know if that was what he was thinking, but that might as well be what he thought after what happened next.

So I say no and Dean makes this face. And this is where the whole Dean being intense thing comes in. Because if you've never seen Dean when he's intense, you won't understand. His face looks like it could jump right off his skull and punch someone with its own nonexistent fists.

I'm saying he looked scary, Grandma.

So Dean's face looks like it's been hired by Dean as a hit man, ready to beat me to a pulp for the right price, and Dean takes a step forward. I won't lie, I was mildly perturbed.

We can argue all day. We can say that Dean was just moving his foot and had some sort of unfortunate face glitch going on. We could say Dean was just getting ready to grab the baby, real quick and ninja like. We could say all sorts of things, but at that moment, I felt as if the stakes had been raised.

So I ran.

I know that's not good for the baby, Grandma! It already happened, I can't do anything about it now. No Grandma, I promise, I really don't need to take a parenting class. Why? Because I'm not a parent! You know what, Grandma? I… I'm… I'm going to finish my story and then go clean out your car? Yes, that's what I'm going to do! So…

So, I'm running, holding a baby, and I probably look like an asthmatic tuna. And what does Dean do? He runs after me!

So I get more freaked, maybe in some alternate dimension that definitely isn't this one, I scream a little and Dean yells, "Get back here!"

So then there's some more running, some more theoretical screaming, and eventually I'm pooped and just stop and sit down right where I was standing.

Dean catches up to me and all the effort I put into running begins to look a little ridiculous, because all Dean says is, "hey kiddo," to the baby and then plops down right next to me onto the grass.

I finally get a moment to think and realize these are the sorts of things that traumatize babies. For a second, I'm worried that in the future she'll have vague feelings of terror whenever she passes runners, but when look down at her, she's sound asleep.

Then I look at Dean. He's covered in baby powder that must have flown up during the high speed chase. There's a diaper that somehow come loose and that is sticking to the knee of Dean's jeans. To sum it up, he looks real stupid.

Dean looks at me. I'm not sure what I looked like, but by Dean's reaction, I'm sure I'll be glad if I never know.

And that's the moment Dean says, "We can just pretend I stayed at home and rocked her to sleep like a normal person."

Then he winks and adds on, "I won't tell if you won't tell."

And then I agreed. But what he didn't know… is that I crossed my fingers!

**BSD**

Ben finishes his glorious tale of 100% accuracy and truth. Mostly everyone looks amused.

Except for Grandma. She's just hunched over with her arms crossed and her face set into a deep scowl, rocking back and forth in the rocking chair she's sitting on. But bah, what does Grandma know anyways?

And Ben breaks out into smile, which quickly drops when he hears a throat clear behind him.

Slowly, he turns around. There's Dean.

"Real funny story," Dean says to Ben, so much false pep in his voice it hurts.

Then Dean turns to the rest of Ben's audience and says, "Since we're on the topic of funny stories, did Ben ever tell you about the time he was convinced that he was an alien? Real riot. I remember it like it was last month (it was last month), and it all started with…'"

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**The End!… **_**For Now**_**…**


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